The swirling colors of hyperspace coalesced into trailing starlines, and then into the stationary pinpricks of realspace. Ahead of them was the orange bulk of the gas giant Yavin; at some distance was the smaller blue and green of its fourth moon.

"Winter?" Leia prompted.

"Yes, Your Highness," Winter said, swiveling her chair toward the communications console. With a few graceful taps of her fingers, she transmitted the recognition code, and they waited. A minute later, the acknowledgement came through, along with coordinates for their landing space.

"Take us in, Vee-One," Leia said, and sat back to watch their approach. The Alliance's main base had recently been established on Yavin 4, and with so many personnel and resources in one place, everyone was using extreme caution to avoid drawing any attention to the system. To that end, her parents had suggested that she and Winter take a small Starwind-class yacht, with no crew other than a V1 pilot droid. A ship this size was far less likely to be noticed than a larger ship like the Tantive IV. Additionally, if they were sent to Tatooine to fetch General Kenobi, a random yacht wouldn't be associated with Alderaan's royal family.

Leia hoped rather fervently that Mon Mothma would indeed send them to Tatooine. As much as she had looked forward to an extended period of time at home, the revelation that General Kenobi still lived was a thrilling one, and she yearned to meet the Jedi Master that her father had always spoken so highly of. Surely Mon would agree the time had come to contact him, with this new battle station added to the Empire's arsenal.

In only a few minutes, they were settling onto the small landing field they'd been directed to, just off to the side of the Great Temple. Leia rose from her seat. "Thank you, Vee-One. Initiate shut down, and watch the ship until we get back. Come on, Winter."

Mon and General Jan Dodonna met them at the edge of the landing field. "Leia, Winter," Mon greeted them, her usual warm smile edged with wariness. "I would like to say it's good to see you both, but I have the feeling that if your parents sent you here, you come bearing bad news."

Leia inclined her head. "I'm afraid you're right, Senator. Alderaan has recently acquired intelligence about a new development in the Empire. My parents felt you should know immediately." She glanced around; the landing field wasn't as crowded as the main fields and hangars the snubfighters used, but there were still more people than she felt comfortable disclosing this information in front of. "Perhaps a more private venue would be appropriate?"

"Of course, Princess," General Dodonna replied, gesturing for them to follow. "Right this way."

Once they were all inside Mon Mothma's private office, Leia yielded the floor to Winter, who, with her photographic memory, easily recited the details they'd learned about the battle station, as well as sketching the few images and technical readouts that had been attained. Leia watched, not Winter, but Mon and General Dodonna, and so she saw the subtly grim expressions that settled over them, the almost fearful glances they exchanged, and she knew that neither she nor her parents had overestimated the threat.

As Winter finished her presentation, Mon took a deep breath. "We did know that the Emperor had a large military project underway. Until now, though, we knew very little else. I had thought we had prepared some reasonable worst case scenario hypotheses, but I see now that we were wrong."

Mon's demeanor was as cool and controlled as it always was, but Leia had known her for years and could see how badly shaken she was, and it was unexpectedly unsettling to observe. "What can we do about it?" she asked.

"That is the question," General Dodonna said, stroking his white beard thoughtfully. "We certainly have nothing that can stand up to it in a head to head confrontation, not even the entire massed fleet." He looked toward Mon. "We need more information. There must be a weakness, something that's been overlooked, or underestimated. No project that size can be carried out perfectly. We must intensify our intelligence gathering efforts."

Mon nodded. "Agreed."

"There was one other thing," Leia said. "My father wanted me to ask if you agree that it's time to contact General Kenobi."

Mon turned to her sharply. "He's told you of Kenobi?" She held up a hand, cutting off any reply that Leia might make. "Obviously he has." She looked at General Dodonna. "Bail is very worried indeed if he's gone this far."

"And rightfully so," Dodonna murmured.

Mon looked back at Leia and Winter, her gaze evaluating. "In the face of such a threat as this, and if your parents think it's time, then I tend to agree. If ever the Alliance was in need of Jedi insight, it's now. Did your father tell you how to reach General Kenobi?"

Leia nodded somberly. "We have his location and a contact code. Dad said if you agreed, Winter and I should go directly to him."

The expression in Mon's eyes was as serious as Leia had ever seen it. "Then that is what you will do. We'll make sure your ship is resupplied for the journey."

Dodonna, who had been looking more thoughtful than ever, leaned forward at that. "Or, if that mission can be delayed by a few days, we could perhaps solve another problem as well. Leia, Winter, where is General Kenobi?"

Leia glanced at Winter. "I'm sorry, General, but Dad said we were only to share that information with Mon."

Dodonna nodded. "Very well. Tell me this, then: would a side trip to Kattada take you badly out of your way?"

"The Ralltiir business?" Mon asked, suddenly looking thoughtful herself. "Yes, that could work."

Leia and Winter shared another glance. The Empire had recently bombarded and then occupied the planet Ralltiir; it was currently under a tight Imperial blockade. "Kattada would be a detour, but a relatively brief one. How would a visit to Kattada help—oh."

"Smugglers," Winter said quietly.

"Very good," Dodonna said approvingly. "Kattada is home to some of the best smugglers in the galaxy, and importantly, we have reason to believe that the leadership of Kattada's main spaceport, Haleoda, is sympathetic to our cause. We have medical supplies for the Rebel cells on Ralltiir, but we've been unable to devise a way past the blockade. It would be a tight fit, but we could probably get all the supplies onto your ship. It would be a great help if you could take them to Haleoda and negotiate with the leadership there to have them smuggled to Ralltiir. Then you could continue on to find General Kenobi."

"Of course," Leia said. The delay was disappointing, of course, but the situation on Ralltiir was critical, and any help they could give was desperately needed.

"Excellent," Mon said, with a firm nod. "Jan, perhaps you would see to having the supplies both for Ralltiir and for Leia and Winter's own mission loaded onto their ship while I give them the information to negotiate with Kattada's leadership."

Dodonna rose, but Leia spoke out before he could leave. "Just the Ralltiir supplies, General. Winter and I can get any supplies we need at Kattada. That way we can carry more for Ralltiir."

Mon eyed her for a moment, then nodded at Dodonna, who nodded in return, then left. Mon pulled up a file on her datapad. "Here's what you'll need to know, girls."

Luke's squadron had settled in, run its first patrols, and was now off duty as the Death Star traveled through hyperspace, to an unknown destination. Most of the pilots were scattered throughout the Death Star, sampling its various entertainments and amenities. A few, he suspected, were in the pilots' ready room with other off duty pilots, following the call of sabacc.

Luke found he had little appetite for such pursuits. Everything about this place made him uneasy, from the secrecy that had obviously surrounded its construction and the dearth of information they were given about it even now, to Vader's presence, to the station's very name. Surely the Emperor hadn't built a giant armored hyperspace-capable space station and named it "the Death Star" just for show, had he?

No, it must have a specific purpose, but he couldn't think what that could be, not without more information. He still didn't know what its weapons capabilities were, or what class of hyperdrive engines it had, or even where they were going. The unanswered questions were like an itch in his mind, and worse, he couldn't tell whether his uneasiness was just reasonable suspicion or some sort of prodding from the Force. Mara had explained how the Force could grant precognition in some circumstances, but with his limited understanding of such matters, Luke had no idea how to recognize if it was actually happening.

Eventually he'd found a small lounge along the outer crust of the station that featured a real viewport. There was rarely anyone but himself there, and he wondered if no one else had yet found the place, or if the station's other draws were simply stronger than that of the familiar stars, or the occasionally disorienting blur of hyperspace.

Luke had always found any view of space soothing, though, and today he sat alone in the lounge, absently sketching Imperial City's skyline in a flimsiplast journal and trying to puzzle through his various worries.

He glanced up in mild surprise as someone entered the lounge, but it was only Hobbie, who stopped just inside the doorway, looking with equal surprise at Luke. "So this is where you've been hiding out," Hobbie said.

Luke shrugged. "Not hiding. You know I like to watch the stars."

Hobbie made a face at the swirling mass of hyperspace beyond the viewport. "No stars in that mess."

"It doesn't bother me. Why are you here?"

Hobbie sighed. "Lost a week's pay at sabacc."

"And you came to drown your sorrows with views of hyperspace instead of heading to the nearest bar?" Luke asked, amused.

"No money for a drink," Hobbie said mournfully, coming over to sit in the chair next to Luke's. "You wouldn't want to lend me any, would you?"

"Not really, no," Luke said, going back to his sketch. "You know better than to bet with no reserve."

Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Always good to have the comfort of a loyal friend in my time of need." He watched Luke draw for a moment, then added, "It's not like you to be so unsociable, Luke. Missing your girlfriend?"

Luke smiled without raising his head. "Still jealous you don't have one?"

Hobbie melodramatically mimed being stabbed to the heart and fell draped across his chair. For a few minutes they stayed that way in companionable silence, Luke drawing and Hobbie sprawled in his chair, then the swirl of hyperspace beyond the viewport resolved suddenly into stars as the Death Star gave a slight shudder and fell back to realspace.

Luke looked up at the stars, then exchanged glances with Hobbie. "So where are we now?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Hobbie said, peering out of the viewport. "Is that a planet?"

"Yes," Luke said, leaning forward. "Do you recognize it?"

"Looks an awful lot like Alderaan." Hobbie frowned and looked over at him. "Why would we be taking a battle station to Alderaan?"

Luke felt a trickle of cold run down his spine. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"No," Hobbie said slowly. "We couldn't be using it against Alderaan. Why would we? Besides, it's Alderaan. They helped found the Republic, for stars' sake. It must be some sort of diplomatic mission…"

"On this thing? Would you assume diplomacy if it made orbit around your planet?"

"And we were already on the Executor," Hobbie agreed. "Makes no sense to use this instead of Vader's flagship."

"It can only be a show of military force." Luke stood and walked to the viewport, laying a hand on it. There was a sharp, steady tone ringing in his head, somewhere beyond hearing, and he had to concentrate on keeping his breath steady. He had been stationed on a base near an ocean early in his Imperial career; fascinated by water vaster than he could have imagined, he had waded into it at the first opportunity. He remembered the weight and pull of the water as he stood in it, the realization of how easily it could overpower him, drag him under with its relentless waves. The Force felt like that now, and it was hard to think clearly against the rising tide. Something was very wrong…

Hobbie came to stand beside him. "There are rumors that the royal family is sympathetic to the Rebellion. Do you suppose they're true? Maybe this is meant to scare them?"

The tone in his head grew sharper, and Luke blinked against the sudden feeling of being in a dogfight, under an enemy fighter's guns. "I don't—"

He flinched as a massive, blinding trail of light seared through space, burning afterimages into his sight, and focused on Alderaan, near the equator. He stared, uncomprehending—

The explosion began somewhere within him, he was sure, and he fell to his knees, gasping with a pain beyond anything he'd experienced, voices beyond number rising to a shriek that was just as abruptly silenced, and the viewport was entirely filled with fathomless light fading into sparks that danced behind his eyelids as he blinked against it, a ghostly scent of burning spreading acridly through his mind.

He tried to breathe through the shock, staring disbelievingly at the now empty space beyond the viewport. Hobbie still stood beside him, both hands flat against the viewport now, also staring, then he slid into a slow crouch and turned his stare to Luke. "Did that come from us?"

It took several attempts for Luke to find his voice. "What else is here?" He turned back to the viewport, looking desperately for the planet that had been shining there just a moment before. Surely, surely he'd imagined that flash…

"It's gone," Hobbie said hoarsely. "The whole planet—it only took one shot."

Luke grabbed Hobbie's arm, a sudden realization washing over him. "Where's Tycho?"

Hobbie blinked, then looked as though he was about to be sick. "We can't say anything. Are we even sure it was Alderaan?"

Luke sat down hard on the floor. "If it was, they won't be able to hide it. Hell, if it was, they'll be flaunting it. You don't destroy a Core world to keep it a secret."

"Destroyed a planet—" Hobbie sat down with a thump beside him and shook his head. "I wouldn't have believed even this station could do it."

"No," Luke said, still stunned. That inaudible, excruciating shriek in his mind—had that been the death of Alderaan reverberating in the Force? He'd never felt anything like it…

The Force. Overcome with the sudden pain and shock, he hadn't even thought about keeping any sort of shields up, and Vader was on this station.

He pushed against the lingering anguish, concentrating on the mental pattern Mara had taught him, slamming his shields back in place as quickly as he could. Had he broadcasted his reaction? Had Vader noticed?

He had no idea. All he could do now was try to keep tight control of his shields for the rest of this mission, and hope.

"So may it happen to all enemies of the Empire," Tarkin said grandly. "You may fire at will."

The Death Star's massive superlaser flashed out, cutting a path through the void between the station and the planet, and with an explosion of violent brilliance, Alderaan was gone.

Tarkin turned to the bridge crew, and with theatrically severe pomposity, began, "This is the fate that awaits all Rebels and Rebel sympathizers…"

But Vader was no longer listening, focusing instead on that sudden flare in the Force, a whisper beneath the scream of Alderaan's billions suddenly cut off, but bright and near in Vader's perception. Somewhere on the Death Star itself was another Force-sensitive.

Surely an untrained one, to allow their shock and pain to reverberate so openly, even under an assault such as Alderaan's death. Did they even know of their own abilities?

Vader narrowed his focus, chasing the fading burst of agony, trying to pinpoint it—

—there was a spark of self-conscious alarm, then the contact cut off as abruptly as it had begun.

Shields. The Force-sensitive had just put up mental shields. Which meant they were aware of their own abilities, they had received at least some training—and they were deliberately hiding from him.

Vader thought that over. A fully trained Jedi? No, not only would a Jedi have shielded their emotions better, but Vader would surely have detected their presence before now. A former padawan was also unlikely, for any old enough to be apprenticed would also have received sufficient training to shield better than this person had. A youngling—no. Vader cut that thought off sharply. The younglings had all died at the Temple.

Whoever it was, then, had not been part of the Jedi Order, but clearly they had encountered a survivor somewhere along the way, and received enough training to know how to shield, but not enough training to maintain that discipline in the face of a shock.

Finding them would be difficult; there were well over a million people on the Death Star, and whoever this Force-sensitive was, they had remained quietly hidden until the shockwave of Alderaan's destruction had ripped through the Force, overcoming their shields. But Vader had a great deal of experience in tracking down and dispatching Jedi. He would find a way. He would discover who this Force-sensitive was, and learn who had trained them.

And then he would kill them both.